


Color Blind, As Well As Obnoxious

by all_my_fandoms (marina)



Category: Stargate: Atlantis
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-13
Updated: 2009-11-13
Packaged: 2017-10-02 14:26:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marina/pseuds/all_my_fandoms
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A ficlet for the McFleece challenge. Dedicated to my own army-green fleece from my military days, still hanging in my closet, that I really love more than the craftsmanship and design can justify.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Color Blind, As Well As Obnoxious

John, personally, rarely saw the point in doing paperwork properly. Therefore, it usually took him no time at all, and as long as it was readable he never heard any complaints. Colonel Marshall Sumner, on the other hand, apparently was quite the procrastinator when it came to writing reports, since a trip back to his old base to tie up loose ends ended up taking three days instead of two. Not that John was complaining, seeing as how it was due to Sumner's absence that John was now occupying the seat of the military leader of the Atlantis expedition. Knowing how annoyed Sumner would be once he found out gave John enough satisfaction that even sitting through a whole meeting with Sumner's name and rank printed on the little card in front of him didn't bother him in the least.

He was only present at this meeting, however, because apparently their new boss was extremely reluctant about postponing. And because, even though John was fairly certain Dr. Weir had read his personal file, she didn't think John was a complete screw-up like most of his superiors. Not that he'd especially care if she'd only wanted him along for the expedition due to his "special magic genes", but he was a little surprised when she insisted he take Sumner's place at the senior staff meeting.

In general, Dr. Weir gave off an air of approachability none of his commanders, past or present, had ever possessed. She seemed to be on a first name basis with half the people she was in charge of, for one thing. Although, she was always more hesitant, more cautious, with the soldiers. As though wearing a uniform meant longstanding membership in a club she was never invited to join. Which... made sense to John in a way he'd never considered before he'd met Dr. Weir.

Another thing about her was that she knew, just as John did, that Sumner would never approve of John taking his place, even though, technically, John's rank made him Sumner's second-in-command. And yet here was John, surrounded by the senior staff of the Atlantis expedition.

Not that the meeting turned out to be very exciting. Dr. Weir went on a bit about military-civilian cooperation, inter-departmental cooperation, and all sorts of cooperations John had heard talk of before but had never yet met a leader able to implement. He didn't envy Dr. Weir's job if her intentions were as genuine as they seemed. The Colonel didn't strike him as someone who could appreciate the input of a bunch of weird looking, science-fair-prize-winner civvies. If Weir acted like she wasn't part of the exclusive club, most of the expedition's scientists he'd met so far acted more like they'd never heard anyone admit the club existed, but they'd been bullied by its members all their lives nonetheless.

Well, maybe except Dr. Rodney McKay. John couldn't picture him a part of any group. In fact, from the few times McKay had spoken in John's presence, either directly to him or to someone else, he'd actually wondered if maybe Dr. McKay was part of some alien race that John didn't yet have the clearance to be exposed to. Judging from McKay's favorite glow-in-the-dark shade of orange, which he was wearing again, sitting right across the table from John, this race of humanoids had to be color-blind as well as extremely obnoxious.

As Dr. Weir went on about her hopes for the future, McKay, apparently bored, leaned on the table in John's direction and John really wished he could wear his shades indoors. Maybe the fleece was another of McKay's attempts to minimize his interactions with humanity by making himself the farthest thing from approachable he could manage without carrying a rifle. Either that or McKay's fashion choices were nature's clever mark of Cain, to warn off innocents from dealing with the man John had seen reduce two grown men to tears in the four times they'd been in the same room since John had agreed to join the expedition.

Finally, the meeting ended and everyone shuffled a little awkwardly to the coffee and doughnuts table. John was just pouring himself a cup when suddenly McKay's blinding shoulder was next to him. McKay was suspiciously inspecting a doughnut, leading John to wonder if on McKay's home planet doughnuts were sophisticated spying devices, when he said in John's general direction "does this look like it has traces of yellow on it, to you?"

"Um, no? It looks like plain vanilla frosting to me." John knew he'd regret asking but couldn't resist the urge. "Why?"

McKay looked surprised. "Oh. Didn't you get my memo? I thought I sent it to the right address. Although I suppose I could have hit the wrong key, the current username assignment system in the internal network is ridiculous." Rodney put down the doughnut to make himself a cup of coffee. "Anyway, I'll send it again, it's vital that you know about my citrus allergy." McKay gave him a serious look that should have been harder to pull off dressed as he was, "It's a life threatening condition."

John couldn't help but chuckle. "I hate to disappoint you, but I don't think there's any real citrus in doughnut frosting."

"Yes, well, although I'm sure that's your expert opinion. It would be prudent," McKay went on with his mouth full, "to print the document after you've read it so that if any of your personnel choose to ignore my email, for whatever reason, they'll have a chance to read the hard copy on, say, your office door. You never know what circumstances we might end up in, those five pages might be the difference between one of your people saving my life and those so-called-scientific shamans screwing up again."

John blinked. "My people? My... personnel?"

"You're the military commander, right? You know those people who keep calling you 'sir'..."

"Oh. No. Well, yes. Actually," McKay was getting crumbs all over his radioactive fleece and still managed to make John feel like an idiot. "Colonel Sumner's in charge. I'm just here 'cos he couldn't make it and Dr. Weir insisted. I'm Major John Sheppard, we've actually met, if you'll recall." John extended his hand. McKay sipped his coffee.

"Right. So... you're an astrophysicist, right?" John was suddenly extremely embarrassed about misunderstanding the source of McKay's confusion, even though he should have been at least a little angry that he'd just had to introduce himself to McKay for the third time. "Some kind of expert on alien tech?"

"Well, I sure *hope* you're not the military commander." John knew that McKay, a human adult, could only have said that sentence under his breath, yet his ears insisted it was said loud enough for everyone in the room to hear.

"What?" was the only reply John could come up with.

"Nothing, Major. Do be sure to alert your subordinates to my condition." McKay finished his doughnut and turned to leave.

But then John's brain came back online and he managed to ask the neon-colored back, "Dr. McKay, I was just wondering, are you color blind?"

McKay stopped and turned around again.

"What? No." he actually looked a little confused for a moment but then added. "I suppose it's not a lethal condition, but you never know. Good of you to check, Major." McKay's look belonged on a school teacher who just found out the retarded boy could draw a pretty waterfall.

"Yeah. Good to know." John said and made a mental note to bring a small stock of lemons to Atlantis and to keep one with him at all times.


End file.
